Death Before Daylight (33 page)

Pierce’s green eyes widened. “What was
that?”

He shouldn’t have had to ask, but it was
impossible. There was no reason she would use it, let alone outside
of the training room.

I leapt to my feet and raced to the exit.
Pierce was right behind me when I opened the door. Shades of all
shapes and sizes rushed through the corridors in a black stream,
but Pierce was the first to step into it. Someone running by bumped
into him.

He tried to ask what was going on, but
everyone acted like they didn’t hear him. Luthicer’s voice bellowed
over the hallway, but his orders went unheard. His voice was
drowned out by the shouts.

Jada was the first to break through the
crowd, and she gripped Pierce’s arm to gain his attention. “You
need to go to the nurse’s quarters,” she breathed. “Now.”

Pierce didn’t move. “Where’s Brenthan?”

His younger brother had stopped by earlier,
but the shelter was on lockdown. No one but shades could get in and
out. For once, Pierce had let the boy explore by himself.

“He’s fine,” Jada said, but her strained
voice sounded like she was saying the opposite. “It was Jess.”

Every part of me froze.

In an instant, Pierce took off, disappearing
into the river of shades before I could even comprehend what Jada
had said.

Jess was in the nurse’s quarters. She had
used her sword for a reason. Someone had attacked her, and she was
hurt.

I sprang toward the crowd, but Jada whipped
around and grabbed the back of my shirt. Before I could tear away
from her, she lunged forward and dug her nails into my arm.
“Don’t.”

“Let me go,” I growled. I didn’t care if she
was Luthicer’s daughter or not. She would not stop me from seeing
Jessica.

“Jess is okay—”

I grabbed her hand and pulled it off me.
Right when I was about to run, Jada’s shout stopped me.

“It was Ida.” Eu’s wife flashed in my memory.
The woman who had pretended to be my mother had tried to hurt the
only girl I loved.

I whipped around. “What?”

“She did it for you,” Jada hissed as her
multicolored eyes flickered over the crowed. She clearly wasn’t
supposed to talk about it, but I didn’t care.

“I have to go—”

“Ida’s dead, Eric,” she snapped. “Jess killed
her.”

Her words sounded as far away as Jessica
felt, and in reality, that was too close for comfort. Jessica’s
heartbeat thundered inside my veins. It was Jada’s words that
allowed me to feel it. Jessica was alive, but someone else had died
by her hands. I didn’t understand.

Jada lifted a hand to grab me again, but she
stopped at the last moment. “The elders want you to stay away for
now.”

It was a phrase I had heard before. When Abby
died, when I met Jessica, when I crashed my car, when I returned
from the Light realm. Everyone always wanted me to stay away.

“Who cares?” I cursed and turned away from
the girl. Urte was standing right behind me. His hands landed on my
shoulders before I could dodge him.

“Eric.” His fingers dug into my skin, but
other than that, he was perfectly still against the backdrop of
rushing people. “Stay here.”

“Why?”

Urte didn’t answer, but his darkened
expression said it all.

My sternum was crushing inside of me. “You
think I had something to do with this?”

“It’s not that,” he said, even though it was.
If Jessica died, Darthon died, and I wasn’t with either one of them
to the Dark’s knowledge.

I brushed my trainer off and stepped back. “I
can’t believe this.”

Urte didn’t try to touch me again. “She’s
okay,” he confirmed what Jada said. “Scrape on her cheek, but
that’s it. Luthicer is checking her out right now.”

I kept stepping back, trying to get away from
them, but I had stepped back into my training room right where they
wanted me. They followed like I had obeyed.

“Just stay here,” Urte repeated before
leaving.

My knees shook until I sat on the ground. I
couldn’t do anything. Knowing the elders, they had someone standing
outside the room. Jessica was right. We were just as much prisoners
in the shelter as we had been in the Light realm. We were never
going to be free again.

I cursed.

“They don’t suspect you.” Jada’s whisper was
loud in the silent room. The chaos outside couldn’t even be
heard.

“Yes, they do.” My breath was rigid. “That’s
why they want me to stay away.”

“No, it isn’t,” she interrupted. When I
looked at her, I could see Luthicer’s genes in her white hair.
“Jess asked for Pierce,” she spoke as sternly as he did, too. “She
didn’t want you to come.”

Jessica even wanted me to stay away.

44

The blood was no longer on my hands, but I
stared at my fingers as if I could still see it. The color was the
same as my Light powers, and it was the color of murder. My sword
had even been red. Even though I had transformed into a shade, it
wasn’t my Dark powers that saved me. It was the Light. Above all,
it was me. I had killed someone—a mother—a widow—a person.

“You did what you had to do,” Luthicer said
from the corner of his room.

I had managed to tell him what had happened,
but the words seemed beyond me now. The scrape on my cheek had even
healed, and the nurse had found a change of clothes. Warrior
clothes. It was all they kept around, but the dark cloth hid the
scar Luthicer had seen while checking on me. Other than Darthon, he
was the only person to see it, but he had yet to say anything.

He spun around in his chair with his
clipboard in his hand. His fingernails tapped across it as his
black eyes searched my face. I knew what he would say before he
asked, “Where did it come from?”

My hands shook. “I can’t—”

“Jess.” His sharp voice somehow softened in a
single syllable. “I know it’s from the Light realm. I can sense
these things.” It was that reason I hadn’t let them check me out in
the first place.

My chest felt like it was being torn open all
over again.

“I need to know why you hid this from
us.”

I couldn’t look at him. “I want Pierce.” I
could tell him. I could manage that. I had to. I just couldn’t see.
My tears were clouding my vision, and I closed my eyes to prevent
them from falling.

“He’s coming.” The chair squeaked, but I
hadn’t realized Luthicer had stood until he laid a hand on my
shoulder. I leapt up, and he leapt back.

“I—” My voice croaked. I lifted a hand to my
face only to drop it again. My touch was hot. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he sounded like my father.

I had never missed my dad so much. I just
wanted to see him reading in his chair, hear his laughter when he
teased my mother about her hair. Anything. I wanted my family.

“Just try to relax,” he said it like it was
an easy thing. “You’re okay now.”

“But Ida—”

“Don’t,” his voice was harsh again. “Don’t
worry about her.”

I nodded, but I didn’t have a chance to
speak.

Pierce burst in, his green eyes wild. “I’m
here.” As soon as he saw me, he rushed across the room, and his
hands landed on both of my arms. “Are you okay?”

Nodding, I didn’t speak. I didn’t want to
cry. I just took a breath and then, I took another one—one after
the other. I had never killed anyone before. I had tried to with
Darthon, but he had stood back up. A part of me wondered if I
would’ve been bothered if he hadn’t. I would never know. I would
only know Ida’s death. Darthon was for Eric.

“What happened?” Pierce asked Luthicer.

The elder looked at me, and I nodded. He told
Pierce everything, but he only paused right before he told him
about what the nurse found. My scar. I had to explain it, and
Luthicer knew I wanted to explain it to Pierce alone.

When the elder left the room, I finally sat
down, but Pierce stayed standing. He shifted from foot to foot as
he ran a hand through his hair. The black spikes melted into brown
fuzz. He flipped back into a human as if he knew I would rather
face Jonathon than my guard. We were both human now, and I was sure
we were alone in that. The noise around my room told me of the
chaos that had happened.

After Ida had died, my scream was heard. A
shade I had never met found us. Other shades responded, and no one
knew who the enemy was. I thought I would have to kill another
before Bracke stepped in. He had barked orders, but I couldn’t even
remember them. Everything was a blur after that.

“You sure you don’t want Eric here?”
Jonathon’s voice squeaked just like the chair did as he sat
down.

“I—” I didn’t know how I would confess my
suicide attempt to Eric. Not when his mother had died that way. “I
can’t tell him.”

A moment passed before Jonathon took another
breath. “Okay, then.”

He waited.

“Aren’t you going to ask?” I spoke up.

“I’m just going to listen.”

I stared at the boy I barely knew as a human.
We only talked about art when we were together, and even then, his
face hid behind glasses. Tonight, he hadn’t picked them up. His
blind eye was completely visible, a fog of a gaze. His other eye
was brown. It looked just like his mother’s eyes in the portrait he
had painted so long ago, and I wondered how she would’ve felt if
she knew where her sons were—how Brenthan had been detained with
Ida’s daughter.

“Is Brenthan okay?” I asked.

“My dad is talking to him now.” Apparently,
Jonathon had spoken to others before being allowed in my room.

“It wasn’t his fault,” I started to speak,
but he raised his palm to stop me.

“Worry about yourself for once.”

I swallowed my words as they attempted to
form. I had to concentrate again, but my thoughts scattered. I saw
Ida’s face again. I saw my sword. My powers were bubbling. I curled
my hands into fists out of the fear that my sword would form on its
own again.

“I didn’t mean to,” I managed.

“No one thinks you did.”

I stared at the ground, and Jonathon’s feet
suddenly appeared in my vision. As soon as he had gotten up, he was
sitting next to me. His arm pressed against mine. “Close your
eyes.”

I did, understanding why he said it. The
position was the same we had taken so many days ago in the shelter.
It reminded me of every time we had spoken in my room. It felt
normal. My heartbeat slowed, but Eric’s remained—racing. He was
worried, and even with the distance, I knew he wanted to be the one
that was next to me.

“I’ll tell him, too,” I said first, knowing
Jonathon would understand.

“What happened to you?” he finally asked, and
I finally answered.

“The reason Darthon tortured Eric—” I choked
on my words, and every passing millisecond burned. “Is this how
Eric feels?” He couldn’t speak, and now, I couldn’t either.

Jonathon didn’t respond. Oddly enough, a
chuckle escaped me, and I hung my head in my hands. My eyes even
opened. The stone ground was starting to become the most familiar
sight I owned.

“Darthon can’t kill him,” I continued, even
though the others already knew that part. “But Darthon doesn’t care
about that. He just wants me on his side, but I couldn’t—I
wouldn’t—and Eric suffered because of that, and—”

“Breathe.”

I did.

“Eric lived,” Jonathon spoke when I couldn’t.
“You both did.”

“I almost didn’t.”

Jonathon’s hand landed on my arm, and when he
pulled me back, I was forced to look at him. His complexion was
drained of color. It looked like Ida’s. “What are you saying?” I
couldn’t breathe until his cheeks filled with color. “Did Darthon
try to kill you?”

“No.”

Jonathon’s hand dropped from my arm. The
space he had once touched chilled against the sudden rush of
air.

“I tried to kill myself.” The words. They
finally left. They escaped before I could stop them.

“What?” Jonathon’s single word came out in a
whisper.

My voice was much louder. “I thought we’d
never get out, that he’d figure out a way to kill Eric, that he’d
kill the Dark if he didn’t die, and I wanted the Dark to win.” Even
my stutter was comprehensible. “I thought if I died, Darthon would,
and everyone would be okay—Eric, you, Bracke, Luthicer—”

Jonathon hugged me, and my voice smothered
against his shoulder. His fingertips dug against my back, but they
were shaking. For once, I knew I was the still one.

“I won’t do it again,” I tried to comfort
him. “It’s wasn’t out of depression—”

He leaned back, but his hands landed on top
of my shoulders. “It’s not your fault,” he said.

“I know that—”

“Darthon tortured you, too,” he interrupted,
and his voice suddenly seemed closer, even though he hadn’t moved.
It was louder, clearer, something I couldn’t ignore. “He hurt you,
too. He did this to you. Do you understand that?”

My face burned, and I tried to close my eyes,
but it was too late. The tears escaped. They cascaded down my
cheeks, and the salty water filled my mouth. I nearly choked on
them. “I’m sorry.” I hiccupped. “I thought it was the only way to
protect everyone, and I—”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak anymore.
The pain took over, and I succumbed to it. The moment I had almost
died had been a panicked one, one that I didn’t want to relive, but
one that kept coming back to me over and over. I hadn’t dealt with
it because I hadn’t had the time, but time was forcing it on me. It
felt like Darthon had all the control again. I couldn’t help but
cry.

“You’re okay now,” Jonathon’s voice sounded
like we were underwater—all foggy and far away—but his thumb moved
over my bicep, and it reminded me of how close he was. “Just cry if
you want to.”

“I don’t want to,” I stopped the tears by
wiping them away, but my body felt like it had been crushed. My
ribs hurt. My sides stung. My skin was cold. I shivered, and my
reflexes reacted. I grabbed my ringed hand, hoping to feel the
burn, but the only warmth that filled me was Eric’s
heartbeat—calmer now, but still racing.